


Seeds

by Domingo Ocelot (docelot)



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5469146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/docelot/pseuds/Domingo%20Ocelot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Furiosa is entrusted with a special gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [resolute](https://archiveofourown.org/users/resolute/gifts).



"Almost the Yuletime, isn't it, Mother?"  
Furiosa and her Mother - not her birth mother so far as she knew, but her Mother nonetheless - dug in the soil of the garden, soil that had somehow weathered the Pocalypse better than the rest. At the very least, the Green Place was the only place they'd found where the vegetables they needed to survive had any interest in growing.  
"That it is, Furiosa. What you angling for this year, then, Child?"  
Furiosa had anticipated the question; turned it over in her mind for a while, even, thinking about what she'd want. It was rarely an easy question, but this year she'd rehearsed her answer.  
"I want somethin' you can't get every day. Somethin' to make the world better. Maybe some piece of how they say things were once."  
The Keeper of the Seeds gave her a smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling.  
"Tall order, innit? Maybe a thing like that don't come along once a year, or even once a lifetime. Does me right to hear you ask it, though, Child."  
"It's all I want, though, sure enough."  
The Keeper smiled again, silently, and bent back to her work, sowing seed after seed, corn and beans, the things that would keep them alive in a hostile world.

Furiosa woke to Maria - another of her Many Mothers - gently shaking her awake.  
"Up you get, Child. Going to miss opening your gift at this rate. I swear you're the only child what's not up at the break of dawn today. Not exciting enough for you anymore?"  
Maria's tone was teasing, taking the edge from her words. It wasn't true anyway, though - Furiosa hadn't meant to sleep so late, and in fact only had because she'd been awake most of the night with anticipation. As it was, she sat bolt upright with a squawk of alarm, rolling off her pallet awkwardly and scrambling to her feet to begin pulling on her clothes.  
"Okay, then. Maybe a little bit exciting still." Maria shot her a wink, then slipped out through the canvas flap of the tent to let Furiosa finish dressing.

They ranged from tiny black spheres all the way up to big brown beans, the seeds Furiosa was given. She peered into the canvas pouch, holding it up to let the sun's light change them from indistinct greys to their natural rainbow of earth tones.  
"They're beautiful, Mother. Keeper. Thank you." She was entirely aware of the gift's significance, of how precious the seeds were to all of them.  
"You're welcome, Child. Might be as you'll be Keeper one day after me, hmm?" The Keeper sat cross-legged in the circle, leaning back on one hand as she looked on. Furiosa nodded, short, before she had a moment to contemplate the weight of the Keeper's words.  
"Not too soon, though?"  
"Not too soon, Child."

The seeds Furiosa kept safe and close, treating them as befit their preciousness. They promised life and plenty as long as sun and soil held out. She spent a few, wisely: a few beans to round out a crop, a few flowers to bring a flash of bright to the dull landscape, but only a few at a time, meting them out with infinite care.

Nearly a year later, a spring day dawned much the same as any other, bright and crisp save for the slight haze in the air from a recent dust storm.  
"Seems something on the horizon thereabouts," said The Valkyrie when Furiosa came by to bring her breakfast. She pointed out a plume of dust rising near the horizon, slowly growing larger. Lifting her battered spyglass, she squinted through it in the plume's direction, features drawing into a frown. "Maybe trouble, then. Furiosa, best as you take this news back to camp and let them know something's afoot."

This Furiosa did, and a party was hastily assembled; through sheer force of will Furiosa was able to have herself included, and now she was aboard the The Valkyrie's ancient motorcycle, hugging herself in behind as it bounced through the dusty landscape on much-patched tires.  
"Raiders." As she brought her bike to a stop and raised her voice over the sounds of engines, Maria's grim tone bespoke trouble for all of them. "We'll wait for them here. Not enough time to pack up the camp and get away without leaving much behind. They'll have to be taught they can't expect to scare us." She spat in the dirt, adjusting her goggles.

The battle was sudden and violent. The War Boys were always more enthusiasm than tactics, and the fighters of the Vuvalini took them by surprise without much difficulty. There were definitely more of them, the War Boys hoping to prevail through sheer force of numbers. The Vuvalini, though, were better-trained and more cautious, and War Boy after War Boy fell into the dirt. Furiosa reloaded her rifle, the one she'd trained with since she was old enough to hold it.

Then, all at once, she was losing her balance - an out-of-control car, its driver slumped at the wheel with his skull blown apart, clipped the rear wheel of Valkyrie's motorcycle, her Mother fighting for control. Furiosa toppled backwards, hitting the ground hard enough to stun her and drive the breath from her lungs. Her precious bag hit the ground, spraying seeds in an arc across the dirt. They were the last thing she saw before she passed out.

The little grove of plants, a mix of flowers and bean vines and and myriad other small plants, was all they had left of Furiosa after that day. She'd been scooped off the ground by a pair of War Boys, thrown into the back of their truck almost before anyone knew what was happening. A furious chase ensued, the Vuvalini desperate to recover their own, but it wasn't to be, and they were forced to turn back, much as The Valkyrie grit her teeth and swore she'd be brought back.

Over time, the Green Place wilted - the winds shifted, the ground soured, and crops that had always grown true suddenly refused to sprout. The Vuvalini were forced to move on, but even as they rode out on a grim, overcast morning past Furiosa's tiny grove a single brilliant-red wildflower stood above its seemingly-duller brethren, bidding them a silent goodbye. The Keeper spared one hand from her motorcycle's handlebar to pat her hip pocket where the remainder of Furiosa's seeds slept.  
"One day, Child. One day."


End file.
